


good morning

by benjidunn



Series: Gay Spy Nerds [2]
Category: Mission: Impossible (Movies)
Genre: Benji and Ethan are dating, Blow Jobs, Ethan's a flirt, Flirting, Fluff and Smut, M/M, Morning Kisses, Morning Sex, Oral Sex, Shower Sex, teeth-rotting fluff i'm SORRY
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-24
Updated: 2019-03-24
Packaged: 2019-11-29 03:41:18
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,016
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18217712
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/benjidunn/pseuds/benjidunn
Summary: Benji accompanies Ethan to the shower for the first time during a mission.





	good morning

Pros of dating Ethan Hunt: he’s loyal and loving, great to cuddle up with on the couch and chat about whatever, even better to sleep with.

Cons of dating Ethan Hunt: it’s nearly impossible to maintain the hands-off rule that they had to maintain whenever they’re sent into the field together, especially on days when they’re collecting intel and Ethan is dressed up and looking effortlessly like a catalogue model.

Benji’s feeling particularly restless as the two of them stand in front of a painting at the opening of a new exhibition in a small art gallery sandwiched in between a restaurant and a boutique. Ethan’s hair is coiffed, chin dark with stubble, with a pair of thick-framed glasses on the tip of his nose as he looks down at the brochure in his hands. Twenty feet behind them, Ilsa is lost in the crowd, talking with a man ten years her senior and their target for the night. They’re supposed to be watching Ilsa, just as a precaution, but the tight fit of the turtleneck sweater that Ethan is wearing is proving to be a bit too distracting for Benji.

He focuses in on the painting in front of him instead, taking in the lines and the colors, trying to look like he knew a single thing about modern art. From the corner of his eye, he sees Ethan tuck his glasses away in his jacket pocket. He wets his lips, bites back anything that jumps to his mind, reminds himself that he’s on a mission.

So he swivels around and looks through the crowd, trying to find any sign of Ilsa. A moment later, he feels Ethan bump into him.

“Don’t tell anyone,” he murmurs, “but I would do anything to lie in bed for the next week.”

“Pretty sure we all feel that way,” Benji grumbles in response.

“But the others don’t get to go home with you.”

Ah. Benji had learned over the past few months that even if Ethan had matured and humbled with age, there’s still a flirtatious streak tucked away.

“You look great in those glasses,” Ethan continues.

Does he really want to start this right now? “We’re busy, you know.”

“Ilsa’s fine.”

“You don’t know that.”

Ethan tugs gently on Benji’s arm and nods towards the right. Somehow, Ilsa managed to slip away from the throng of people and direct the target over towards the front window.

“Oh,” Benji says. “Right.”

Luther’s voice suddenly comes through over the earpiece. “You all have been awfully quiet.”

Ethan lifts his hand to his ear discreetly and responds, “Nothing much has happened.”

“You better be behaving yourself,” Luther says with an edge of warning in his voice.

His warning has to be directed at him and Benji. There’s no way Ethan could suddenly go sprinting across rooftops or get himself into a scuffle with five other men tonight.

“I’m hurt that you have so little faith in me,” Ethan responds.

“I trust you, but…”

Ethan doesn’t say anything more; instead, he just smiles.

The smile, while innocent, makes Benji nervous. He glances over at Ilsa, wondering what Ethan had brewing in his mind, until Ethan says, “Let’s move over there to get a better view.” He nods at a painting across the room.

Benji agrees, and then is immediately caught off guard when Ethan puts his hand on the small of his back and guides him towards the other side of the gallery. This is Ethan’s thing now, pretending that he and Benji are a couple when they’re in the field together and Benji isn’t cooped up in the van, but it still throws Benji off every time Ethan touches him in public.

“Mind getting us a drink?” Ethan says once they make it to the other painting.

Benji looks towards the bar, and then back at Ilsa. “Yeah,” he responds before heading that way. There’s a sudden hole in the crowd, one that allows Benji a good view of the man Ilsa is speaking with. He does his best to look inconspicuous as he casts his gaze in that direction and waits for his drinks. After getting the first one, he hangs back and takes a few sips; then he takes it back to Ethan.

“There’s really nothing to report back to Luther,” Benji informs Ethan. “They look like they’re really chatting.”

“Mm.” Ethan swallows a sip of champagne and turns towards the painting behind them. “What do you know about art?”

“Not much.”

Ethan’s quiet for a moment. Then he asks, “What did you study in college?”

“Uni? I studied computer science.”

“Did you do anything else?”

“Uh, a bit of theatre,” he responds as he scratches his head. “Why?”

“Just wondering what I would have done if I hadn’t gone straight into the military.”

“What would you be doing?”

“Farming, probably.” He smiles a bit wistfully.

“Ethan the farmer. I can’t even imagine that.”

“I think my cousin took over the farm.” He takes another sip. “I haven’t seen my cousins in a long time.”

Benji bounces on the balls of his feet. “Do you… regret it at all?”

“What?”

“The path you did take.”

Ethan doesn’t say anything at first. Then he gives a small shake of his head. “Not really.”

Benji feels Ethan’s hand slip into his. He gives him a small squeeze before immediately falling away, but Benji understands.

The two fall back into a brief pause that’s only interrupted when Ethan asks, “How much longer do you think Ilsa will be?”

Benji rolls up his sleeve to check his watch. “Hopefully not much longer.”

Ethan rubs his hand across his jaw and says, “I need to shave.”

“You don’t, really.” The words tumble out without thought. “Er. Sorry.”

“Don’t--”

“This is what happens when I haven’t slept in two days.”

“--apologize.” Ethan smiles and runs his fingers down his jaw again. “You like it?”

Of course I like it, Benji thinks. If it weren’t for the mission, he’d pull Ethan off to the side somewhere and absolutely ravage him. But he doesn’t need to say that, not when Ethan’s eyes are glittering the way they are.

“Mission,” Benji breathes before focusing back on the painting.

But it doesn’t deter Ethan, who lightly grasps Benji’s hand again. Benji holds his breath as Ethan leans in, puts his lips by his ears, and murmurs, “You look really sexy in those glasses.”

“Didn’t Luther tell you to behave yourself?” Benji whispers as the tips of his ears grow warm. He’s waiting for Luther to interrupt them now, to ask what Ethan’s up to, to ask what Ilsa’s doing. And what could Benji say? I’m trying to watch Ilsa. It’s not my fault Ethan’s a flirt. I’m sorry, I haven’t fucked my boyfriend in two weeks and he’s getting a bit stir-crazy.

Despite all that, it’s hard for Benji to refrain from responding anyway. “Aren’t you exhausted?” is what he finally settles on.

“Sure I am.”

“Where’s the energy to hit on me coming from, then?”

“You really want an answer to that?”

“I mean I’m flattered, but that two-hour nap I took earlier is really wearing off now.”

Ethan’s massaging the back of Benji’s hand now with his thumb. “You didn't hesitate to tell me you like the stubble.”

Benji’s face flushes. “Maybe this is a conversation to have later.”

His thumb presses circles into his skin, leisured, gentle. It’s kind and distracting and erotic all at the same time. Maybe it’s better for Benji to be in the van when Ethan isn’t the center of attention in the field. Bored Ethan is too much of a hazard.

Benji pulls away without warning and turns back around. Ilsa has changed position, drifting away from the target with every line exchanged, but unable to depart from him completely. He’s following her movements, cornering her into their conversation on his own terms. And as capable as Ilsa is at taking care of herself, there’s no easy way of escaping a conversation with a man you’re trying to keep unsuspicious of who you really are and what you can do.

So he nudges Ethan and nods her direction. When Ethan notices, he frowns. “We might have a situation,” Ethan says to Luther.

“It’s about time.”

The coquettish attitude’s gone, now. For the better, Benji thinks when he observes the serious creases in Ethan’s face as he watches and thinks up a solution. But the fact that he really wants nothing more than to undress Ethan and go to bed is hard to suppress. Damn the man.

 

* * *

 

Ilsa drags herself up to the safehouse with her earrings in one hand and her heels dangling from the other. When she’s finally in the porch, she slumps against the wall of the house and moans, “He was one of the worst men I’ve ever talked to.”

“But you got a lot out of him,” Ethan remarks.

“Only after enduring the most insufferable conversation you can think of.”

Ilsa had only told them bits of what he had said to her in the ride back to the safehouse, but Benji had run into enough men like that in bars that he’s sympathetic. He can only wonder how terrible it would be to put up with him after being awake for the last 24 hours.

Benji glances at the rest of the group. The four of them had all been thrown immediately from one mission to the other, and it definitely shows in the dim moonlight.

“We get to sleep in tomorrow, right?” Benji asks.

“Let’s see,” Ethan sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose as he thinks. “Yeah, I don’t remember anything that we have to address tomorrow morning. We can plan what to do next after everyone wakes up.”

Luther gives Ethan a pat on the back before fishing the front door key out of his pocket and unlocking the house. He opens it and allows Ilsa to hurry through first. “I call the shower,” she tells the others as she rushes up the stairs.

“I don’t think I could stay awake long enough to take one,” Luther mumbles.

It’s Ethan’s turn to pat him on the back. “Get some rest. Thanks for monitoring the van tonight.”

“See you in the morning.”

He ascends the stairs and turn the corner. No sooner had he disappeared than Ethan was grabbing Benji’s hand and pressing a tender kiss next to his ear lobe.

“You still have to behave yourself.” Benji voice wavers slightly.

“We’re not in the field right now.”

“But Ilsa is going to come back downstairs any moment.”

“It’s not like she doesn’t know.”

Ethan’s lips finally find their way to Benji’s. The kiss is soft, slow, but hints at something much more intense.

“I don’t think she’d like very much to come back to us making out,” Benji says as Ethan pulls away.

“Then let’s go somewhere more private.”

Benji curls his fingers around Ethan’s jacket and lets him kiss him again, this time deeper, this time hungrier. Then he steps back and murmurs, “I’m going to bed.”

“Mind if I join?”

“I mean I’m going to sleep.”

“It’s better if I do, too.”

Benji gives him one last peck on the lips before heading up the stairs. Ethan follows him and nods at Ilsa as she passes by. The two of them enter a bedroom with two twin beds on either wall. On the left bed is Ethan’s bag, Benji on the right. They go to their respective beds, where both undress, Benji putting on his usual threadbare shirt and sweatpants, Ethan stripping down to nothing but a pair of boxers.

Exhaustion weighs down so heavily on Benji that he collapses into bed as soon as he finishes dressing. Within moments, he falls into the peaceful haze of early sleep. He’s jolted back out again by Ethan’s voice.

“Move over,” he tells him.

“I said I don’t want to have sex right now.”

“Can’t I at least sleep with you tonight?”

“Oh.” He blinks up at Ethan and rolls over. “Sorry, I--”

“It’s fine,” he reassures, laughter in his voice.

“I’m not sure how well we’re going to fit.”

“Use me as a pillow.”

Ethan slides into bed and guides Benji down on top of him. Then he wraps his arms around him, kisses his forehead, and says, “You really like the stubble?”

“It’s sexy,” Benji mumbles.

“Not as sexy as you are in those glasses.”

“I definitely saw a woman eyeing you tonight.”

“Too bad I’m taken.”

Benji wraps his fingers around Ethan’s. “I’m about to fall asleep, you know.”

Ethan kisses the top of his head and says, “Night, Benji.”

“Night, Ethan,” he answers, but he falls asleep so quickly he’s not sure if he actually did or just imagined it.

 

* * *

 

Benji wakes up to find Ethan doing his best to sneak out of bed. When Ethan notices that his eyes are open, he grimaces and says, “Sorry, I didn’t mean to wake you.”

He doesn’t say anything at first. Instead, he glances at the window, where the bright rays of an early morning sun shine through. “What time is it?”

“Just after seven.”

“Seven!” Benji moans. “I thought you were going to sleep in.”

“I did sleep in.”

“You’re crazy.” Benji grabs the thin bedsheet and pulls it over his head.

“For being a morning person?”

“No, for being a science experiment gone wrong. I don’t know how you get enough sleep to do anything that you do.”

The bed dips next to Benji before Ethan tugs back his bedsheet. “Can I at least say good morning before you start taking shots at me?”

Their eyes meet. “Good morning, Ethan.”

Ethan smiles, reaches forward to brush his fingers through his hair. “Morning.” He bends forward and kisses him on the lips, just an earnest kiss that sends electricity through Benji’s bones. “Morning.”

“You already said that.”

“Mm.” Ethan kisses him again, this time with a bit more force. “I just haven’t been able to kiss you good morning in a while.”

Benji blinks the bleariness out of his eyes enough to really focus on Ethan now. His hair mussed up, eyes bright and warm in the morning light, stubble even more pronounced.

“You know,” Benji starts, “you’re much more of a romantic than people would expect, I think.”

“How’s that?” He kisses his cheekbone.

“You’re so dedicated to your job, I never…” He wraps his arms around Ethan’s neck as he moves to kiss his jaw. “Maybe I just never let myself imagine you being romantic.”

“Why not?”

“Don’t make me talk about my embarrassing crush on you,” he pleads.

Ethan leans back to meet Benji’s eyes. “I like hearing about it.”

“Not right after I woke up.”

“Later, then.”

Before Benji can say anything else, Ethan is kissing him again, lips parted, one hand bracing himself on the bed frame. Benji meets him with the same enthusiasm, tightening his embrace around Ethan, holding back a groan when Ethan presses closer to him and intensifies the kiss.

“Ethan,” he breathes.

“Mm,” Ethan hums as he litters kisses across his face.

“Before we start doing anything, can I at least--” He exhales when Ethan places his lips on his throat. “Can I at least brush my teeth first?”

He pauses. “What?”

“I’d like to brush my teeth.”

“Doesn’t bother me.”

“It bothers me.” He pushes gently on Ethan’s shoulders. “Really, I didn’t get to brush them last night--”

Ethan sighs, sits up, and runs a hand through his hair. “Alright.” He gets up and heads over to the other bed.

Benji blinks, holds his breath for a moment, and then says, “You’re not -- you’re not mad, are you?”

He rustles through his bag. “Just getting ready for the day.” He waves his toothbrush at him. “I’m taking a shower.”

Oh. Benji licks his lower lip. “You don’t mind if I get ready with you, then?”

“Not at all.” Ethan disappears through the door and down the hall.

For a moment, Benji waits. Only a few minutes ago, he had lamented that he was awake so early; now he felt entirely awake at the thought of Ethan taking a shower downstairs. It doesn’t help that he had never done anything like that with Ethan; usually, they kept it to one of their beds, maybe a couch, but never in the shower.

He makes up his mind to get his things together and join Ethan downstairs. By the time he makes it to the bathroom, he can already hear the showerhead running. He slips in and shuts the door quietly behind him. When he turns the faucet on, Ethan calls, “That you, Benj?”

“Just getting ready.”

The shower curtain rustles behind him. In the mirror, he catches Ethan sliding it back on the rod, just enough where there’s an inviting gap between it and the wall. Benji hurries to finish brushing his teeth, then undresses and widens the opening. In the dim light of the shower, he can just catch Ethan’s toothy smile. He returns it, climbs inside, and lets Ethan grab onto his wrist and pull him into a wide-mouth kiss.

Benji cups his arms up around the back of Ethan’s head and allows all the pent-up lust from the past two weeks to come out. It’s stubble on stubble, itchy, wonderful, both moaning into each other’s mouths with the relief of knowing that for now, it’s just them and nothing else. He’s not fully aware of anything but just how fucking amazing is to finally be kissing Ethan, how incredible it feels for bare skin to be touching bare skin. So he allows Ethan to guide him slowly towards the showerhead, smiling into the kiss as he did.

Then he feels the shower spray.

He yanks away from Ethan suddenly, arms flailing as he yelps, “ _Jesus Christ, Ethan!_ ”

Ethan’s brow furrows in confusion. “What?”

“Don’t act so bloody innocent!” He reaches for the curtain.

“Where are you going?”

“There’s absolutely no fucking way I’m taking a shower that bloody cold!”

Ethan’s face suddenly changes. “You’ve never taken a cold shower?”

“A cold shower is one thing, but you might as well go skinny dipping in a pool of ice cubes!”

“That’s an idea.”

“Ethan Matthew Hunt!”

“What?” he laughs. “You’re going to wake Ilsa and Luther up!”

“I might as well! They’d agree that you’re absolutely out of your mind. Jesus, first waking up at seven, then this...” He takes a step out of the shower when Ethan suddenly grasps his wrist.

“Don’t leave,” he pleads.

“I absolutely cannot take a shower that cold.”

“But you’re already undressed and wet--”

“No, Ethan!”

“Then come show me how hot you like it.”

That makes Benji hesitate. It was such an innocent sentence, but the look Ethan gives him causes his heart to skip a beat. “I’m not coming back in until it’s warmer,” he tells him after a few moments.

Immediately, Ethan disappears behind the curtain, then returns to urge Benji to come back.

“Fine,” Benji sighs. He cautiously re-enters and approaches the showerhead. “Blimey, this is cold.”

“What? That’s warmer than what I usually take.”

Benji leans forward and gives the knob two twists to the left. Behind him, Ethan makes a noise of protest, but the shower warms up quickly. “There,” he says. “That’s much better.”

“How do you not suffocate?”

“This is the temperature normal people take their showers at.”

Ethan shakes his head.

“Look,” Benji huffs, “if this is going to be an issue, then we’ll just never be able to take showers with each--”

“C’mon,” Ethan laughs as he reaches for the shampoo sitting on a shelf. “Time to wash up.” He squirts some in his palm and hands the bottle off to Benji.

Benji accepts it and does the same. “Did something happen to you to make you think that taking showers that cold is acceptable?”

“What’s the big deal?”

“It’s inhuman.”

“You’re being awful mean to me.”

“A lot of the things you do give me heart attacks, but this crossed a line.”

“Yet you chose to get back into the shower,”

“I did, didn’t I?” Benji says crossly.

“Mm-hm.” Ethan brings his hands to Benji’s head and lathers his hair. “I’m glad you did.”

The teasing irritation evaporates when Benji rests his hands around Ethan’s wrists and lets out an exhale. Ethan’s face is hovering close to his, fingers massaging his scalp slowly, sensually. It’s just them staring at each other for one moment, two, three, until they’re kissing again, lips barely touching each other’s at first until Benji clenches down on his arms and kisses him harder. Each kiss is deeper than the last, their mouths loosening with each second, until Ethan’s slides his hands down so he can cup Benji’s face. Now their tongues meet, and their bodies press together, and Benji can feel a faint pulse in his pelvis that grows stronger and stronger the longer Ethan kisses him. They only stop when Ethan maneuvers Benji under the stream of water and helps wash the shampoo out of his hair. Then it was Ethan’s turn, and then they were kissing again, even more excited, even more eager.

They both sigh into each other’s mouths, but Benji’s turns into a moan when Ethan swipes his thumbs over his nipples and leaves a searing kiss against his throat. “Fuck, Ethan.”

“You don’t know how hard it was for me not to do this to you last night in that art gallery.” His voice is practically a growl at this point.

“Strip me down and wash my hair?”

“Cheeky.”

Benji takes a fistful of Ethan’s hair when Ethan sinks his teeth lightly into his skin. “What did you want to do?” he chokes out.

“Take you into the bathroom--” He kisses his jaw. “--shove you into a stall--” He kisses the corner of his mouth. “--and suck your cock until you came so hard I had to carry you back to the van.”

“Jesus,” Benji breathes as his knuckles turn white around Ethan’s hair. If he wasn’t hard before, he definitely is now. His entire lower body throbs with his erection. “How about now?”

“Kind of want to do the same thing.”

“Why don’t you?”

“Mm.”

Benji’s hair stands on end when Ethan begins to sink to his knees. On the way, he kisses down Benji’s throat, chest, midriff, down, down, until he’s pressing kisses against his thighs. A string of swears tumble out of Benji’s mouth as Ethan lingers around his hips and thighs, tracing his fingers down his skin, touching every inch except for his cock. It’s torture, it’s heaven, it makes his knees weak and his heart pound and his mind explode with every profanity he can think with some _I fucking love you, Ethan Hunt_ ’s riddled in between. He wants to scream at him to get on with it, but Ethan between his legs, stubble tickling his thighs, murmuring something inaudible against his skin between tender kisses -- he could never get enough of that feeling, of the euphoria drumming in his chest alongside the desperation that he really, really needed Ethan’s mouth on his cock.

“You’re so beautiful,” Ethan breathes, even if just barely loud enough for Benji to hear him. “Every part of you, Benj, makes me -- wow.”

“Oh, shut up,” he mumbles as his face grows warm.

“I love touching you,” he continues, breath hot against his skin.

Benji bites back a shout when he finally feels Ethan’s fingers brush across his balls. He settles for a strained groan instead, trying his best to monitor his breathing as Ethan plays with them, his movements slow and calculated, like he’s trying his best to drive Benji insane.

“Ethan, _please_ ,” he coughs. The tension in his groin is becoming too much to bear.

Ethan hums something before finally taking Benji’s tip between his lips. It’s barely anything, but he lets out a ragged breath and digs his hand into Ethan’s hair again. His eyes are squeezed as tightly as he can squeeze them as Ethan wraps his hand around him, and presses a kiss, and another, and another, against his length. It feels like an eternity before Ethan mouths his tip again and rocks his head forward, just enough that it makes Benji sputter and hang his head.

“You’re killing me,” he moans.

He can feel the corners of Ethan’s mouth turn upward as he pulls back and then moves forward again. His fist presses firm against the base of Benji’s cock as he takes more of his length in. Ethan’s mouth is so hot and tight and wet and Benji’s head is spinning like a top, making him completely unaware of how loud he’s crying out, hips bucking forward without warning.

Benji forces himself to peak an eye open down at Ethan as he backs away from his cock. A string of spit connects his lip to his cock, and his hair is dripping into his face, and it’s so incredibly hot that Benji wonders why he hasn’t melted right then and there. Then Ethan’s calloused fingers dig into his hips, and Benji hisses his name. His cock is engulfed in Ethan’s mouth, hips unable to move under his titanium grip. Ethan’s going back and forth without hesitation or apology, quick, quick, quick, and then one long, slow drag before resuming his tempo.

Every part of Benji’s body throbs in time with Ethan’s movements, reaching a peak when Ethan suddenly grabs his balls again and removes his dick from his mouth. He doesn’t stop pumping his hand along his length as he looks up at Benji and tells him, “You can fuck my mouth, it’s okay.”

Jesus Christ, bloody hell. Benji doesn’t hold back when Ethan engulfs his cock again, taking ahold of his hair and rocking his hips forward, like waves crashing against the shore. The pressure in him builds and builds and builds as he thrust his hips forward, fast and hard between Ethan’s lips, until it’s like a balloon swelled to its fullest extent.

“Wait, Ethan,” Benji suddenly cries out. “Stop, stop.”

Ethan backs away immediately. He looks up at Benji, lips swollen, slightly panting. “Is something wrong?”

“I don’t want to cum before I even get to touch you.”

He blinks, then says, “Okay.” Ethan gets to his feet, allowing Benji to get a look at his own swollen cock, looking just as tender, just as desperate to be touched. So he guides Ethan into a kiss, deep, loving, and he grabs Ethan’s cock without warning. He gasps, shudders, then cups one hand around Benji’s jaw and the other around Benji’s cock. They’re both caught up in the moment that their kisses are sloppy, so that sometimes Benji misses and kisses his cupid’s bow and Ethan trails down to his chin, but it’s so fucking good, anyway.

An orgasm builds in the pit of Benji’s stomach, making him push Ethan away in fear of cumming too early. But Ethan only pushes Benji’s hand away and instead grabs both of their cocks, so when he rolls his hips forward they both let out pleasured moans that resonate within the shower.

The surge of Ethan’s hips are powerful, enough that both tremble in a glorious mixture of ecstasy and relief, until Benji breaks away from Ethan and throws his head back.

“Ethan,” he spits out. His vision goes white as he finally climaxes, mind reeling while Ethan continues to jut his cock against his. Maybe he shouts _holy fuck_ ; it’s hard to tell with such intense waves rushing through his body, each one contracting his muscles so tightly that when it’s over and done with, he almost sinks to the floor. When he comes to, Ethan has stopped touching himself, instead focusing on keeping Benji upright and pressing kisses next to the corner of his eye.

“God, Ethan.” He wraps one arm around his neck to keep from falling over. “Shit.”

“How was that?”

“Do you really have to ask?”

“I just want to hear you say it.”

“Fucking amazing,” he sighs, and then he grabs Ethan’s cock firmly and begins pumping his hand at the same speed that Ethan had been thrusting against him only moments before. It’s so wonderful watching Ethan’s face contort, lips parting without a sound coming out, wet hair hanging in his face as he gets closer and closer to his orgasm.

“Cum for me, darling,” Benji mutters.

Ethan groans, now leaning against him for support.

“Cum, Ethan.”

“Shhhhhhit.” Ethan bends forward and presses another wet kiss against his lips. Benji increases the speed of his hand until Ethan’s fingers are digging into his shoulder and he drops his head forward, swearing under his breath as cum covers Benji’s hand and drips down his stomach.

As soon as Ethan finishes riding out his orgasm, Benji pulls him into a warm kiss. Ethan gladly accepts it, smiling against his lips as they kiss lazily, both absolutely fucking exhausted, but feeling infinitely better than they had over the last two weeks.

“We definitely woke up Luther and Ilsa,” Ethan says softly between kisses.

“Were we that loud?”

“I’m pretty sure.”

“I guess it’s only fair.”

Ethan sends him an inquisitive look. “How so?”

“You wake me up early, we wake them up early.”

“And then use up all the hot water. I don’t think that’s very fair at all.”

“Oops.” Benji grins.

Ethan matches his smile. “Oops.”

The two stand together in silence, listening to the pit-pat of the showerhead and staring into each other’s eyes, until Ethan finally says, “If I’m being honest, I want to go back to bed.”

“Ethan Hunt? Go back to bed? In the morning?”

“I know, I know, but what if I said it’s because I want you to come with me?”

Benji purses his lips and rolls his eyes towards the ceiling in thought. “I think I could make that work.”

“I’d hope you say that,” he sighs before pulling Benji into another kiss.

**Author's Note:**

> This took me sooo long to write, and I was kind of nervous considering this is my first Benthan smut. Hopefully I can write for them again soon!


End file.
